Autumn Beckons

We now live in the Midwest where we enjoy (sometimes) the dramatic unfolding of seasons. Fall, also known as Autumn, heralds the ending of summer, an interlude before winter sets in.

But then Spring arrives. How well I remember the rather innocuous ditty: “Spring has sprung, the Grass is ris' - I wonder where the flowers is?” Having lived in California and Arizona for many seasons; some years they were barely visible in some ways, and still the seasons arrived, pretty much on schedule. A jaunt up into the mountains if timed right could bring us to gorgeous, colorful forests or a foot of new snow.

Then back to reality with vivid memories that would linger until the next season and longer. Autumn has other affects regardless of climate or topography. Schools open their doors again. School buses ply the streets. Tears of joy and sorrow fall unsolicited.

How well I remember one season the week before school began in Berkeley, California. We took our kids to the local pool but couldn't see them because of steam rising from the warm water. Wasn't it Mark Twain who said that the coldest winter he ever spent was August in San Francisco?

Not only schools get going, organizations merge into high gear after the sizzle of summer ends and vacations are over and custodians tackle dust bunnies once again. We dare not forget that football begins to compete with baseball and tennis and golf often vie for seasonal supremacy.

Our homes display the last rose of summer (although some do bloom in December, even in chilly climates.) Housewives make their homes emulate the seasons with flora and fauna that is appropriate. Somehow, a summery flowery wreath on an entry door in October gives way to a stalk of corn which lingers until December.

Seasons can be overlooked by unsentimental souls which can lead to monotonous living which hardly seems fair when seasoning can make living so much more palatable. As for me and my house, we find seasons a delight, whether in Arizona or Alaska, Phoenix or Fargo. Long live our seasons.